


Quaranfling

by oat_creations



Series: Quaranfling [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, F/M, Feelings Realization, Feels, Fiction, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Inspired by Real Events, Long-Distance Relationship, Modern Era, Original Fiction, Romance, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Teen Crush, Teen Romance, Texting, highschool
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25670749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oat_creations/pseuds/oat_creations
Summary: Quaranfling—a romance that develops throughout quarantine.
Series: Quaranfling [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861396
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quaranfling—a romance that develops throughout quarantine.

The dim glow of Allenor's Macbook screen was all that illuminated her room at 1 AM. As she reached across the sheets to retrieve a half-eaten bag of chips she had saved for later, the movie had just started to get interesting. A family secret, a dying grandma, and the amazing Awkwafina—god, she could tell she was gonna love it. While the characters bickered about something, Allenor shot a quick Instagram story just for the hell of it. She was sure her friends probably skipped through them anyways, so it didn't matter. She hit post without any further thought except for whether or not she should cook herself some instant noodles after she finished watching this. Her mind went to her dark kitchen and she shuddered. 

_Nevermind_ , she thought. 

Look, she might have a sweet spot for things in the horror genre, but she was not going to risk having a heart attack after she sees one of those long-haired creepy ladies stare at her from the reflection on the granite kitchen wall. It was one thing to be brave, but to be stupidly brave was a whole new thing. The only actual time where Allenor might say "well, did you ever think it was your fault?" would be when you put yourself in that situation knowing the risks.

If you go down into your creepy kitchen at 1 AM knowing damn well some spooky ghost lady might sneak up on you, that's on you buddy, sorry.

As she continued to mindlessly snack on her chips and watch the movie, a low, muted ring sounded. Without taking her eyes off the screen, she grabbed her phone and looked as to who could've sent her a message at 1 AM. There, in the middle of her pink lock screen was a familiar username she'd seen before. One that she'd gotten from a closing party in New York a couple of months ago. Of course, she didn't keep in touch with him because she had only asked for it so she could get the pictures they had taken together. It was odd, how many situations and people you find yourself in when you have quite an obscure group of friends. Once again, Allenor read the notification displayed in bold black letters on her phone. 

_**JamesC111 replied to your story:** hey, where'd you watch that?_

James Chen; she doesn't remember the man well but the familiar roll of his name in her mouth was almost too good to be true. She said his name over and over again in her head, sounding each and every syllable, indulging in the almost sweet, rounded sound of it. Allenor looked over to the right of her bedside, where, above her clutter of a study table, laid out a huge art piece of printed memories. She eyed each and every one of those polaroids in the dark of her room, squinting her eyes to try and find that one familiar scene with her red lipstick and disco glitter dress. The night was a blur of bad 80s music and too many people packed in a tiny music hall, and she recalled the feeling of skin on skin and the sight of sweat on everyone's foreheads. She remembered how she squeezed her way past the crowd and the twombly, zig-zag line she walked. The party was horrible, and yet she loved (and hated) every second of it. 

The events had lined up perhaps a little too perfectly; a little over 2 AM, the staff in charge of the photobooth decided they wanted to call it a night and gave Allenor's group the last call—either they take the picture with her group alone, or she could squeeze in with the other group behind her. And of course, she chose the latter. The moment she laid eyes on the tall, lanky excuse of man she knew she had to. She might've been hammered out of her mind but there was no way in hell she'd pass up the opportunity for _boys, boys, boys_. Allenor was simple like that. 

And so the rest was history—a party, a photo booth, and a polaroid photo. What a classy way to start a cheesy Wattpad story. 

_God, imagine being in a Wattpad story,_ she thought. _That'd be both the worst and the best thing ever._

Allenor still had to reply to James Chen though, and her dramatic flashback sequence had just delayed her possible Wattpad story by 5 minutes. Her thumbs padded across the screen, trying to type out the perfect response that was not too desperate and at the same time, not too cold. She tried to find the perfect string of words and the perfect set of emojis—ones that'd leave him curious for more, draw him in like how a siren calls a sailor. 

Yes, that'd be fun, her mind echoed.

_**bunny.in.distress:** Leonflix, the movie's called The Farewell by the way. Watch it and maybe we can have a good chat about it later ;)_

She finished typing and hit send, then turned her phone off before he could reply. He was enough of a distraction to her precious bootleg movie. Allenor didn't want to miss out on any more screen time and so decided to leave it at that to be picked up later again in the morning.

If she can wait 2 whole months for him to make a move, he can wait a couple of hours for her to catch some Zs.


	2. Prologue

_Do you have a quaranfling?_

_owo what's that_

__

_It's like_

__

_When you have a fling while in quarantine_

__

_It's usually nothing serious_

__

_Just for fun since the two people are bored_

_ohh icic_

_no i dont sjbfsjbf_

__

_Fr?_

__

_,, I mean_

__

_As long as no one gets hurt, it's fine,,_

_HAHAHAHA YES THATS IMPORTANT_

**Disclaimer**

****

**This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.**

****

**Copyright © 2020 by Oat_Creations**

****

**All rights reserved.**

****


	3. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started simple—a party, a picture, a stray memory.

The dim glow of Allenor's Macbook screen was all that illuminated her room at 1 AM. As she reached across the sheets to retrieve a half-eaten bag of chips she had saved for later, the movie had just started to get interesting. A family secret, a dying grandma, and the amazing Awkwafina—god, she could tell she was gonna love it. While the characters bickered about something, Allenor shot a quick Instagram story just for the hell of it. She was sure her friends probably skipped through them anyways, so it didn't matter. She hit post without any further thought except for whether or not she should cook herself some instant noodles after she finished watching this. Her mind went to her dark kitchen and she shuddered. 

_Nevermind_ , she thought. 

Look, she might have a sweet spot for things in the horror genre, but she was not going to risk having a heart attack after she sees one of those long-haired creepy ladies stare at her from the reflection on the granite kitchen wall. It was one thing to be brave, but to be stupidly brave was a whole new thing. The only actual time where Allenor might say "well, did you ever think it was your fault?" would be when you put yourself in that situation knowing the risks.

_If you go down into your creepy kitchen at 1 AM knowing damn well some spooky ghost lady might sneak up on you, that's on you buddy, sorry._

As she continued to mindlessly snack on her chips and watch the movie, a low, muted ring sounded. Without taking her eyes off the screen, she grabbed her phone and looked as to who could've sent her a message at 1 AM. There, in the middle of her pink lock screen was a familiar username she'd seen before. One that she'd gotten from a closing party in New York a couple of months ago. Of course, she didn't keep in touch with him because she had only asked for it so she could get the pictures they had taken together. It was odd, how many situations and people you find yourself in when you have quite an obscure group of friends. Once again, Allenor read the notification displayed in bold black letters on her phone. 

**_JamesC111_ ** _replied to your story: hey, where'd you watch that?_

James Chen; she doesn't remember the man well but the familiar roll of his name in her mouth was almost too good to be true. She said his name over and over again in her head, sounding each and every syllable, indulging in the almost sweet, rounded sound of it. Allenor looked over to the right of her bedside, where, above her clutter of a study table, laid out a huge art piece of printed memories. She eyed each and every one of those polaroids in the dark of her room, squinting her eyes to try and find that one familiar scene with her red lipstick and disco glitter dress. The night was a blur of bad 80s music and too many people packed in a tiny music hall, and she recalled the feeling of skin on skin and the sight of sweat on everyone's foreheads. She remembered how she squeezed her way past the crowd and the twombly, zig-zag line she walked. The party was horrible, and yet she loved (and hated) every second of it. 

The events had lined up perhaps a little too perfectly; a little over 2 AM, the staff in charge of the photobooth decided they wanted to call it a night and gave Allenor's group the last call—either they take the picture with her group alone, or she could squeeze in with the other group behind her. And of course, she chose the latter. The moment she laid eyes on the tall, lanky excuse of man she knew she had to. She might've been hammered out of her mind but there was no way in hell she'd pass up the opportunity for boys, boys, boys. Allenor was simple like that. 

And so the rest was history—a party, a photo booth, and a polaroid photo. What a classy way to start a cheesy AO3 story. 

_God, imagine being in a AO3 story,_ she thought. _That'd be both the worst and the best thing ever._

Allenor still had to reply to James Chen though, and her dramatic flashback sequence had just delayed her possible Wattpad story by 5 minutes. Her thumbs padded across the screen, trying to type out the perfect response that was not too desperate and at the same time, not too cold. She tried to find the perfect string of words and the perfect set of emojis—ones that'd leave him curious for more, draw him in like how a siren calls a sailor. 

_Yes, that'd be fun,_ her mind echoed. 

_**bunny.in.distress:** Leonflix, the movie's called The Farewell by the way. Watch it and maybe we can have a good chat about it later ;) _

She finished typing and hit send, then turned her phone off before he could reply. He was enough of a distraction to her precious bootleg movie. Allenor didn't want to miss out on any more screen time and so decided to leave it at that to be picked up later again in the morning. 

If she can wait 2 whole months for him to make a move, he can wait a couple of hours for her to catch some Zs.


End file.
